i knew it was coming. i prayed it wouldn’t. i didn’t want it to happen, but i subconsciously knew because the whispers were telling me... & often. when you keep moving without dedicated physical, mental & emotional rest, there is a cost. most don’t see the total of the destruction, until the mess is made. but the whispers sent you messages & often the same whispers were sent to the ones who love us most.

i have been admiring you from afar for a while now. my hesitance is based on fear, of course, but i am trying to walk through it. so, if you will be patient, i promise to give you my best, be committed & show up for you.

fast forward to the weekend. i agreed to trek 20 miles over the course of three days…in the wilderness. if you know me at all, up until the last few years, being in the woods was at most hiking for a couple of hours. i also defined camping as staying in a “side of the road” motel, last minute. the only time i spent a night in a tent, i was approximately 8 years old, with my parents chaperoning the youth group, & it rained…a lot. never again i would often told myself when the memory arose.

i was reminded of this point in my life after reading an article this morning on facebook which got my attention entitled “dear son, about that pink bathing suit.” an accompanying photo of a giddy, toeheaded boy adorned in hot-pink immediately caught my eye, so i read on.

what does it say about a person who loves & believes so deeply in another human being? to the point that they know the greatest within the other is untapped? is this wrong? is it good? how will we ultimately know if our strongly held belief is true?

as a part of PRoj&ct GiRL consulting i offer decorating for holidays & parties. lucky for me this is the perfect conduit for my inner child to enter this world if but for nano second. ergo, my favorite opportunities are halloween & autumn events. when i see the happiness in my client’s eyes or hear it in their voices upon announcing their approval i am elated. it's affirmation that what i do matters & my dreams have become my reality. conversely i am baffled that clients pay me & then thank me. isn’t it i who should be grateful to them for allowing me to do what i love?

i believe road tripping has always been my answer since i was legally allowed to drive. i come by it honestly: either my maternal grandmother mamie, was often on the road driving between alabama & nashville to visit us or charlie monk was always asking us, the neighbors (or anyone actually) “want to go for road trip this afternoon? maybe get a blizzard?” therefore it is not shocking my reflex to finding "an answer" is simply to drive.

circling back around to the little prince analogy, i see how it correlates with college dorm room move-in expectations. sometimes we miss what is truly important. i should have focused sooner on allowing my adult-child to to fail. i suppose it is a little harder for me, since it has been "just us" for so long, but that's most likely an excuse. but it's my story & i am sticking to it.

as i departed the farm, carrying my gorgeous wedding gift of a thai parasol, i glanced back to see the glowing white tent, with an incredibly crowded dance floor filled with the happiest of humans in all the land, bouncing wildly. it filled my heart with joy, remembering what it is to be that young & happy once more.

the trip to london was in some ways the trip of a lifetime, for which i am truly grateful. in other ways it taught me lessons in communication; how to tame anxiety & fear; to focus on being in the moment; seeing the beauty in the mundane when you take a different path; how the kindness of others can change your day; & truly taking life 15 minutes at a time.

to know, as a mother, that when my daughter goes out into the world unknown, there will always be people who don’t look like her, sound like her, think like her or love like her, but are there for her, my babybird.

your bff is everything. it’s the kind of relationship which gets you through life.

especially the ones from your high school days.

my high school bff, tricia & i have survived a lot together: high school for starters (it was a doozy. we dated the same boy, but evidently all of our friends did too); college long distance; the divorce of her parents; our young adulthood; her dog eating a whole bag of chocolates (the dog survived); the birth of my child; her marriage; the birth of her children; my marriage (yes this is the proper order); my divorce; the deaths of her father & college bff; the beginning & ending of most of my dating relationships, the death of one of our high school squad, but most importantly my survival & recovery. if it were not for tricia, i would be nothing.

truth is, the relationship with your bff must indeed be solid if you are to survive a bathroom update together.

in march i headed south to tricia's home because she lamented for years how she abhorred her children’s bathroom. she wanted a refresh & so PG to the rescue.

someone said i look like walter white in breaking bad. lol!

this was no typical redecorating job. it was a throw down, all day, everyday for 6 days straight of shopping, sanding, caulking, painting, cloroxing the floor tile with a toothbrush, decorating kind of week, all while living with her family. of course, #homerthewondermutt was included.

#homerthewondermutt & PG waiting on lacrosse practice.

encompassed into the insanity of the redo was the demolition of a ridiculously decadent birthday cake tricia baked for me, a few lacrosse & ballet runs in the middle with my "other" children, all culminating with one very ill husband of the bff, church, a teen girl cat fight i had to diffuse and last minute dining room drapes installation, all on easter sunday.

so one long & dusty week later, which i would not trade for a million dollars, these are the results:

we took a dark, faux venetian plaster bathroom & turned it into a bright & cheerful oasis of tranquility. alright, fine. it’s just a much better looking teen bathroom, but it’s amazing what can be done in a week.

my australian bff simon james & PG at steeplechase in 2014 (photo cred simon james, but how since he is in the photo. lol!)

steeplechase (or as it is affectionately referred to, “peoplewaste”) is something of a right of passage for the young people. they gather their friends, pack their suvs with tents, tables, chairs & coolers, dress in their “darty” best (“day party” for you neophytes) with large hats, bring tasty treats & bevys to the infield, all to watch watch the ponies run.